Man Flu
by Loopstagirl
Summary: Arthur was insufferable at the best of times, let alone when he was sick.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners._

_This one is for a dear friend, hope you like it! Hope everyone else does as well for that matter._

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"I wasn't joking when I said I wasn't going back in there," Merlin protested, staring at the bottle Gaius was trying to press into his hand. He knew what it was and who it was for; that was the problem.

"He's not the only one sick, Merlin. Other people require my attention and there is nothing more I can do for him other than help ease some of the symptoms. He just needs to ride it out and as his servant, it is your duty to assist him."

"Screw duty and destiny," Merlin muttered venomously, but found he was taking the bottle anyway. He pulled on his jacket and with one last pleading look at Gaius – who decided to choose that moment to busy himself with his bag and so didn't notice – he left for work.

Being Arthur's servant was hard enough work on the best of days. But the last couple had been unbearable. Arthur had caught a cold. For a knight sworn to protect the land, Merlin thought he would just brush it off and pretend that nothing was wrong. Merlin had honestly expected he would be forced to keep Arthur in his chambers to give him a chance to recover and hadn't been looking forward to the battle.

Now, however, he would do anything to get the man to get out of bed. Arthur was refusing to move, claiming he felt awful and surely it had to be something that had the potential to kill him because of how bad he was feeling. He spent the day moaning that he needed to see Gaius, how his head was going to explode and he couldn't possibly get out of bed. Then, as soon as Gaius turned up, he shouted at Merlin for fetching him, claiming he wasn't weak and it was a waste of the physician's time.

Merlin wanted to strangle him by the time he had escaped the previous evening and now Gaius was telling him he had to go back and spend another day listening to Arthur whine like a child.

Making a mental note to check with the dragon later about whether murdering him for being annoying went against his destiny or not, Merlin walked the well-known corridors with dread, his pace getting slower the closer he got to Arthur's chambers.

Pushing open his door, he sighed at seeing the curtains still blocking out the light and there was no movement in the room. Arthur still seemed to be asleep. Merlin was glad. Despite his moaning, Arthur wasn't the healthiest person in the kingdom right now and Merlin knew getting some rest would speed his recovery. Of course, Arthur healing would mean Merlin would be able to resume his usual duties rather than having to play nursemaid.

Merlin set about tidying a few things and stoking up the fire before leaving just as quietly and heading to the kitchens. Luckily, they had been informed of the prince's illness and had prepared something soft and plain for him. Merlin grinned as he picked up the tray. All he had to do was tell Arthur it was Gaius' orders that he eat something like this and the prince didn't have a choice.

But then the smile slipped when he thought about how Arthur had practically thrown it at his head the day before while claiming there was nothing wrong with his appetite. It would have been impressive if his voice hadn't cracked halfway through his rant and Arthur had been left croaking for over an hour. Merlin was sure he wasn't technically supposed to laugh when his master was sick, but seeing Arthur trying to croak insults had been amusing.

Laden down again, he returned to Arthur's chambers and groaned.

"You're late."

"No, you were simply asleep when I first got here. How are you feeling?"

Arthur wasn't even sitting up but still managed to glare across the room at his servant. He had somehow propped the pillows up a little before crashing back down on them and simply lifting his head. Merlin thought he knew how the man was feeling; his voice was still hoarse. But the pout on Arthur's face as he stared across the room was almost endearing and Merlin shook his head as he crossed the room and slid the tray onto his lap.

"Are you going to throw it at me again? Gaius says it is nutritional and the kitchens have assured me it will be easy for a sore throat."

"Tastes disgusting though," Arthur moaned, dipping the spoon in and letting the porridge slop back into the bowl. When he did that, even Merlin had to admit it didn't look the most appetising of meals.

"Just eat it, Arthur," Merlin sighed, leaving the tray where it was, ignoring the prince and going to sort out the fire. It was burning nicely now and it didn't take long until Merlin had it arranged so it would continue to do so for several hours.

"It's too hot with that lit."

"No, you're just hot because you are slightly feverish. You need to keep warm."

"_Mer_lin…"

"I'm not putting it out and then being responsible for you getting worse because you weren't kept warm enough, Arthur." He didn't mean to snap, but Arthur was trying his patience. Merlin had this cold before the prince and he had still turned up to work every day; Arthur probably hadn't noticed. But just because he was the prince seemed to make Arthur even more insufferable than usual.

Dragging the bath-tub out, Merlin took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he began pulling the buckets of water had already filled over to the fire to heat. He had listened when Gaius had said that Arthur needed to be kept warm. Not to mention if he could get Arthur out of bed and into the bath, it gave him the chance to change the sheets.

Why was it that everything seemed so much harder when Arthur was sick?

But as he let the first two buckets of hot water splash into the tub, Merlin realised it had fallen quiet. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he saw that Arthur had forgotten his complaints and was trying to eat. Merlin didn't say anything, but he grimaced when he saw Arthur wince every time he swallowed. It wasn't just to stop the man complaining that meant he wanted Arthur better again.

By the time he had the bath filled, Arthur had clearly decided that he had gone long enough without attention and had resorted to moaning again.

"I can't possibly get in a bath, Merlin. I ache all over, moving isn't a good idea…"

"If you ache, then moving is the best thing because it will stop you from being stiff and the bath will help the aches," Merlin said dismissively, yanking back the covers as he did so. Arthur grappled for them and for a moment, Merlin was tempted to just let go and let Arthur get on with it by himself. But – as much as he hated it – he knew it was his duty to look after Arthur. Not to mention that Arthur wasn't up to full strength and Merlin actually managed to win and yank the covers off the bed.

Arthur didn't have a choice then but to let his servant pull him out of bed and shove him behind the changing screen. Satisfied that now he was actually up, Arthur would be able to handle the next part on his own, Merlin left him to it and quickly set about stripping the rest of the sheets off the bed. He dumped them in the corner before remaking it, knowing Arthur was more than likely to want to get straight back in. The splash of water revealed Arthur had got in, so Merlin quickly grabbed his sleeping clothes as well before laying out fresh ones. While Arthur couldn't see him, he opened the windows a fraction to let some air into the room.

Still, he made sure the prince wasn't in a draft and the fire was still burning.

Arthur let out a soft sigh as the warmth of the water sank into him. Merlin finished tidying, strangely at a loss to do. Arthur hadn't trained for a few days and had barely left his bed in that time; there wasn't much to clean or sort out. He didn't have long to think about it though, not when Arthur started whining again.

"It's too cold," he moaned, causing his servant to glance over. Merlin dipped his hand in and flinched at just how hot it was. Biting back a groan, he rested a hand against Arthur's forehead. Despite being batted away almost immediately, he had felt enough to know Arthur was burning up again.

"Are you hot or cold?"

"What kind of stupid question is that? It's bloody freezing in here." Merlin knew he wasn't just saying it; Arthur's teeth were actually chattering as he spoke. Rolling his eyes, Merlin fetched him the towel.

"Come on then, out," he ordered, secretly surprised when Arthur did as he was told with nothing more than a pout on his face that revealed how much he hated this. Merlin had a feeling he was only being so irritating because he didn't want to suffer through this alone. Merlin got him dried off and dressed before settling him in front of the fire, determined that he was going to try and keep Arthur out of bed for a few hours at least. Still, he couldn't stop himself from handing the prince a blanket when he was still complaining of feeling cold.

Naturally, as soon as he was settled and comfortable, his temperature went the other way. Merlin whisked away the blanket and only then remembered the tonic Gaius had pressed into his hand. Fetching it, he handed it to Arthur without a word before deliberately turning his back on the prince. It seemed if no one was paying Arthur any attention, he would actually take things without complaining. Sure enough, by the time Merlin next glanced over, the phial was empty.

And, to his surprise, Arthur's eyes were shut.

"Arthur?"

"Mm?" Arthur snuggled – although Merlin knew Arthur would have his head if he ever mentioned it again – deeper into the chair and continued to keep his eyes shut. Merlin couldn't stop himself from smiling fondly, realising that Gaius had believed him when he said how troublesome Arthur was being and how the prince would probably keep himself ill just to spite Merlin.

After all, why else would he have slipped a sleeping draught into the tonic?

Awkwardly – for Arthur was practically a dead weight despite just about being awake – Merlin managed to drag him from the chair and back to bed. It was different now; Arthur wouldn't be able to stay awake for much longer now he had drunk the potion and Merlin had no desire to be blamed for the prince having a stiff neck when he woke from being slouched in a chair for the entire time he was asleep.

Navigating him under the covers left Merlin practically panting, but Arthur simply crashed down onto the pillows and sank into them. Merlin wasn't sure his eyes had opened for the entire time he had been trying to get him across the room. Pulling the blankets back over him – for Arthur was shivering again – Merlin found that he didn't mind so much Arthur was being a brat. There was something young and innocent about the way he was burrowing into the blankets as a way of keeping warm until just the top of his head was visible.

No doubt he would be back to pouting and moaning like a child the second he woke up. But while he was asleep, he looked peaceful even if the top of his forehead – which was all that Merlin could now see – was flushed with a fever he couldn't quite shake off.

"Get well, Sire," Merlin whispered, moving back across the room. Sitting down, he looked for something to do and grinned when he saw Arthur had taken a few books from the library. The subject matter was boring and Merlin learnt more about taxes than he ever wanted to, but it passed the time.

Arthur might be behaving like a brat, but that didn't mean Merlin had any intention of leaving him.


End file.
